


Out of the Ashes

by tyrsibs (twiceshy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:23:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twiceshy/pseuds/tyrsibs
Summary: The fae queen welcomed the angel, and her unique problem, into her court, and Anna knew the answer to her troubles would carry a high price-was she willing to pay it?





	1. Chapter 1

The Fae court had fallen silent, its revelers had wandered off into the maze of the queen’s mansion or dozed off to sleep, in their chairs or on the floor. The queen’s musician slumped against the arm of the throne, her head level with her liege’s lap, her instrument under one folded and protective arm. The queen had willed it all so. 

She alone remained awake, and she turned her head as though attending a distant sound. Her long golden hair, held away from her face by strands of silver strung with diamonds, fell down her back in curls. Her pale robes gleamed in the candlelight, and in her lap, her hands idly plaited her musician’s hair. She smiled as she listened to the sound only she could hear. 

The queen lifted her fingers from her musician’s hair, beckoning the empty air. “Come, little one,” she said. “Why does a member of the Host seek an audience with me?” 

A sound like bells, like shattering glass, echoed from a far corner of the court. Some of the sleeping courtiers stirred, moving away from the sound or flinging their arms over their ears. The queen tilted her head, considering. “Personal matters? I was not aware that the Host believed in personal matters.” She smiled a cold smile, for she had amused herself. “A personal request, at any rate, should require an introduction, do you not agree?” 

There was a pause, and then the sound rang out again, softer and plaintive. 

“Milton? I hear the lie in this name,” the queen said. “This is not your own.” She frowned, “But for the moment, perhaps it will suffice. Come closer, and tell me what you will have of me. And the price you offer.”

The sound travelled over the sleepers, across the court to the queen, but before it reached the steps of the queen’s dais, the ruler lifted her hand to quiet it. “This is surely a tiresome form of speech.” She waved a hand over her musician’s head. “You may borrow Katya’s voice.” When the air fell silent, she spoke more sharply. “Let us not scruple over the means of conversation. She is my servant, and I myself give you leave to use her as you must. Either accept my offer, or depart with your request unspoken.”

After a long pause, Katya’s head tilted forward as her body shifted to the side, pulling itself jerkily upright as if it were a marionette on strings. Head still tilted towards the floor, she spoke. “My thanks, your highness.” 

“Better.” The queen smiled once more. “Now, what is your plea, little angel?”

“May I ask if--do you remember me? We helped each other once before.”

“Did we? I do not recall assisting a Milton.”

“Yes. I needed my mother to become pregnant and provide my human vessel. You received a vial of my grace in return.”

“Ah-h-” The queen tapped her lip with her long fingernail. “That grace is gone now, I fear.”

“That’s not why I’m here.” Katya’s head suddenly snapped up and swiveled towards the queen. Her eyes opened, and for a moment they were a brilliant shining blue, before they faded back to a shade of brown. “I also assisted you, once, to enter heaven undetected.” 

“So you did.” 

“In light, and in the comfort, of our past arrangements, I have come to ask your advice with a problem.”

“I gathered as much.” A corner of the queen’s mouth twitched up, even as she sighed. “Come, Milton, enough of the formalities. You seek a favor of the court.”

“I do.” Katya’s head dropped again. 

The queen’s fingers tapped against the arm of her throne, but she waited in silence until the angel spoke in a voice just above a whisper. 

“I’ve shed my vessel. It was--necessary. But now I find that I need it. I’ve grown--attached, and--” the angel stopped. 

The queen leaned over, a gleam in her eye, and gently lifted Katya’s chin. The angel inside held her gaze, but the borrowed voice trembled. “I’ve discovered an unforeseen complication.” The musician’s head jerked away from her liege’s grasp and the angel pulled her back away from the throne until she was sitting at the edge of the stone dais, arms wrapped around her torso protectively. “My vessel was--is--a young female.” 

“So I recall.”

A shaky nod. “Can you restore her body to life?”

The queen did not answer immediately, and the silence stretched between them as she regarded the back of Katya’s neck. Finally she tilted her head and said, “Perhaps. But well you know, this is no small favor. Why do you wish to retrieve a body, a mere collection of bones, so fervently?”

“Before I regained my grace--before I burned away my vessel--I had--I lay with a mortal boy.” 

“Yes?”

“It should not have happened, and now--” The angel filled Katya’s lungs with a deep breath. “It’s impossible, but now, I think I--I find that--”

“She was quick with child.” 

The rest of her breath came out in a rush, as if the queen had punched her in the stomach instead of making a calm assumption. “Yes. She--I--was pregnant. And there’s a, a spark, I guess, that is still traveling with me, even though it should not have survived the shedding.”

“Shed it now, then, T’would be easily done, spirit creature that you are.” 

The angel nodded. “Well, yes. You see, it’s strange, but--.” The angel pulled Katya’s shoulders up but did not turn to look at the queen. “But I don’t want to.” 

“Are you in love with the child’s father, then?”

“No!” Katya’s shoulders slumped once more. “I barely knew him.” 

“And yet, even as you regained your divine self, you protected his possible child and shielded it from the burning.” 

“It’s not just HIS. Not at all. It’s mine--MY ‘possible’ child,” the angel said with some heat. 

“Of course.” The queen stood swiftly from her throne and brushed past the angel, descending the stone steps until she stood in front of her guest, her face inches from Katya’s. “And if I create this body for you, what then? The child, if you are capable of bearing it, will be hunted by your kind as an abomination, will it not? Even more, it will be sought by witches and their ilk, for its blood will be grace-touched, and therefore priceless.” 

“But it’s not a Nephilim! I was human when I got her, and her father is human, too!”

“Her?”

The angel said nothing. 

The queen pulled back, to her full height. “Why ask for so little, a mere vessel, when so much more might be won?”

“What do you mean?”

The Fae sighed. “Perhaps our debt might be settled, if I grant your request.” She tilted her head again, birdlike. “But perhaps there is more I might provide. A new arrangement between us--that would keep the child hidden, and thus safe?”

“Safe--” the angel whispered. She stared at the queen, who gazed back without expression, and did not deign to elaborate.

Finally, the angel asked, an edge of acid to her tone, “What do you want, then? How do I keep her safe?”

“Want? Why, nothing very taxing. Simply your eyes and your ears.” 

“Not literally, I hope.” The angel huffed out a mirthless laugh. 

The corner of the queen’s mouth turned up. “A small price, in truth, are they not? But no. If we come to agreement, I would simply assist you in the creation of a worthy, fertile vessel--”

“The same as I had before. It has to be the same.”

“Even so.” The queen acquiesced to this with a single nod of her head. “Thus, would our debt be reconciled. Should you desire it, though, I would vouchsafe the safety of your child, here in my realm, in exchange for what information you may gather among your brethren regarding Heaven’s plans or--” her mouth curled up in distaste, “politics.”

“You want me to spy on the angels?” The possessed girl’s head snapped back as if she’d taken a blow. “You know, I’m not exactly welcome in Heaven, right? They’ll kill me if they catch me.” She dropped her gaze to the step at the queen’s feet. “Why?”

“Surely you have heard it. A battle cry beckons the forces of both Heaven and Hell. Such a conflict would have consequences spanning many worlds, including mine own. Let us say simply that I wish to be--prepared.”

“And if I do this, you will keep her safe?” 

“To the extent of my power.”

“How long?”

“As long as the child wishes to stay.”

The angel smiled her bitter smile. “And when would my service be complete?” 

“My dear,” the queen paused. “Until you are no longer useful. Or until the battle has come to pass.” 

Once again the angel fell silent, and the queen waited, until in a small voice, the angel who was no longer Anna Milton said, “I agree.” 

The queen’s accepting smile was fierce.


	2. Chapter 2

The Fae queen re-took her throne and her courtiers began to rouse. One by one they stood, stretching or yawning, and began to wander away from the dais where their queen lounged and the angel in Katya’s body sat rigid on the step, waiting. One of the last to awaken was a tall man with silver hair and a hooked nose. Rather than join the silent folk making their way out of the room, he stepped immediately to the bottom of the dais and made a deep bow to his ruler. Anna had not heard a sound from the queen, but now she caught a silken rustling as the Fae behind her gestured. 

“Mathias,” said the queen, “Kindly escort our guest to the magus’ quarters.” The silver haired man bowed again and turned ever so slightly to regard the angel. Another rustle, and the queen spoke, just behind Anna’s ear. “Tell the magus what you seek. He will know that such as can be done is to be done with my blessing. Once the child has accepted its new vessel and quickened within it, you and I shall have more serious words.” 

Anna nodded. “Thank you.”

Matthias led the angel through the queen’s lodgings, a maze of tapestried hallways, closed doorways, and grand staircases, until they reached a stone archway. Winding stairs led up or down into the gloom. He turned to her, and indicated with a wave of his hand that she should go up as he made a perfunctory bow. After a moment, she nodded her head at the servant, and began to ascend. 

The only decorations on the circular stair were the ornate silver lamps set just far enough apart that she felt like she was continually searching for the next one around a distant bend. As she passed the fourth lamp, Anna whispered to herself, “I should just take flight, until I reach the top of the stairs.” But she didn’t. Her senses were not quite attuned to this body, it seemed, making everything a bit off kilter. Even worse, her wings did not yet feel like a true part of her consciousness. The spark that had attached itself to her grace as she flooded and destroyed her vessel, that the angel had curled instinctively around as she forced both herself and the demon into the ether, now fluttered unfixed and unbalanced through her system. 

It was amazing to Anna that they had made it this far at all. 

At the top of the stairs she found a stout, small wooden door, arched like the entryway below. She only hesitated a moment before knocking. The door silently swung inward, revealing a dark room lit from some dim source above. She stepped in, trying to bring her angelic vision under control long enough to scan the room for living creatures. There was no one. 

But then, in the middle of the circular room, a small man appeared. He faced the angel with crossed arms and a glare. “Well?” he said. “What is it this time? More magic strings? You still owe me a song for the last set, you know--”

Anna drew her temporary vessel up into a commanding pose and returned his stare. “Your lady permits your help on my behalf,” the angel said. She let her eyes flash blue. 

At this, the little man faltered. “You’re not Katya.”

“No.” 

He surveyed her. “Someone wearing the queen’s lutist? What manner of barbarism--”

Anna halted him with a raised palm. “Your queen gave me permission, and your friend is safely asleep, here with me.” 

The man shook his head at that, but turned, stumping over to a low curved workbench that occupied most of the far walls of the room. He cleared his throat and without turning around, said, “What’s it to be, then? A scrying? A prophecy? You winged folk are forever pestering us for such trivialities, so I can well--”

“A vessel. My vessel.” Anna spoke softly. 

He let out a barking laugh. “What’ve you done with it, then? Misplaced it?” He picked up a tool and began tinkering with an array of gears and metal strips laid out on the table. 

“It burned.”

“He slumped, dropping his tool on the bench. “Should’ve been more careful.”

“Yes. But it was--necessary.”

“So--Katya’s not good enough for you?”

“I’ve no wish to keep or hurt her. I can’t explain more, except that it is imperative that I return to my own vessel. I do not ask for myself, but you must believe, another’s well-being is at stake.” Anna approached the bench and the mage turned to her, glaring up into her face. “What is your name, sir?” 

“Telgrym,” he grumbled. 

“Please, Telgrym. You can recreate it. The queen would not have agreed to terms and sent me here if you couldn’t.” She stopped several feet away, so that he didn’t have to crane his neck up at her. “What do you ask of me to make this happen?”

“Blood and bone, sinew and soul,” he said, his tone taking on the cadence of a recitation. “Or barring that, a finger or lock of hair would do.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything left.” 

“Of course not,” he harrumphed. He moved over to a bookstand that stood half hidden behind a screen, and sighed loudly as he turned the pages of a tome that lay open on the top shelf. “I don’t suppose you can bring me the bodies or souls of its parents, either.” 

Anna felt a pang course through at the mention of the Miltons. “Probably not.” If pressed she supposed she could retrieve their bodies, but some deep small part of her being rebelled at the thought. And heaven--well, it wasn’t exactly safe for her at the moment. 

The spark fluttered close to the surface of her grace as it reached her vessel’s stomach. It did not feel as strong as before. She put a hand protectively over it, watching Telgrym’s eyes follow the gesture. He knit his brows in confusion, then brought his eyes back up to hers. She placed her other hand over the spark and nodded at him, smiling a little as she saw the truth begin to dawn on him. 

“Isn’t there another way?” She asked. “When she created it, the queen said--”

“You say, the queen herself?” Telgrym slammed shut the tome, and, without waiting for an answer, left the stand to hustle over to another shelf. This one was loaded down with tubes and rolled up pieces of parchment. For several minutes, the room was silent but for the rustling of paper and the mutterings of the small man as he searched through the scrolls. 

Finally he sighed, “Ahhhh--” and drew out a small ivory tube that had been sealed at each end with a poured plug of a metal that gave off a scintillating silver-blue gleam as he held it up for her to admire. He tapped it on his chest with some pride. “She doesn’t always share her work with me, you know--but this one--cost me something.”

He moved to one of his workbenches and lit a brazier, then held one end of the sealed tube over it until the flame flashed green and a drop of molten metal splattered onto the table. The little man set the tube down and, taking up two pairs of tongs, held the tube steady with one as he carefully pried the softened seal from the tube. 

Anna took a step forward, intrigued, but Telgrym waved her away from the bench without looking up. He tilted the tube, then, allowing a tightly rolled sheaf of papers to slide into his hand. 

“What is it?” the angel asked, but he spared only an annoyed glance before unrolling it and pressing both palms to the papers to flatten them onto the bench. He was soon entranced by the pages. 

As the angel watched with crossed arms, the loose spark left her abdomen and travelled freely about the pulse of grace. It made her anxious and irritable, but the mage paid no attention as he poured over the scrolls. Sometimes he touched a line of text and caused it to glow with an orange light. These orange filaments seem to latch onto his fingertips and rise off the paper before absorbing into his hands. 

Anna willed herself to stand still without tapping a foot or waving her own fingers in the air to signal that he should hurry up. Her grace flickered around the spark, and Katya’s body may have shivered along with it as it perched over her heart. The mage seemed to catch the vessel’s movement out of the corner of his eye, for at that moment his head finally shot up and he turned to give the angel a sharp look. 

“Your memories.” He said. 

“What?” 

He tapped the papers. “I need them. Your mortal ones, that is.” 

Anna started, “I don’t--”

Telgrym tsked at her, waving his hand for silence. “My lady created a child--more explicitly, an--embryo, I think you might call it. Pure potential, but not much more.” He spoke as slowly as if he had to explain the situation to a half-wit. “To complete the body, as it existed more recently, I need a guide. In the absence of flesh and bone, the vessel’s memories of growing and living within its flesh, should do.” He turned back to the papers and muttered something at them. Anna thought she heard the words, “sufficient sacrifice--” 

“How--do you have an enchanted pensieve handy?” 

He snorted. “A what? Fool girl--are you not an angel? Can you not deliver them to me?” 

“All of them?”

He fixed a glare on her. “As many as you are willing to part with. Consider it your donation. How perfect would you have this new body?”

Anna considered, and then nodded. She gestured for him to approach and she knelt down, sifting through the memories of her old life. When he stood before her, she nodded again without looking up at him. Her fingertips went to his temples as her eyes closed. The angel felt electricity and icy chill pass through her vessel’s fingers as she began to concentrate, passing memories on to the mage.

>   
>  Looking up at her mother’s chin and then past her hair to the blinding sun. 
> 
> The weightless fear of falling on concrete steps, the blood running down her knee.
> 
> Sitting in a metal chair at school until her thighs ached with sitting still, even as her fingers were absorbed in the scissors and the paper. Her tongue behind her teeth. 
> 
> Her father’s laugh. His disappointed sigh, and the despair she felt on hearing it. 
> 
> Her dog’s ruff snuggled against her arm. The ache when he was gone. 
> 
> The hot flush of Andrew McGee’s attention. 
> 
> Running, Running, Running. Hating that they were being made to run in endless stupid circles, but loving the burning strength in her bones. 
> 
> The sun heating her hair and skin.
> 
> The cold, biting her cheeks. 
> 
> Her mother’s hands holding her own to warm them. 
> 
> Hitting Jeremy’s teeth with her own the first time he tried to kiss her. The scent of grape gum on his breath. 
> 
> Mike taking her hand, and the prickly grass that stained their skin. 
> 
> A cacophony in her brain. Music like nothing she’d ever experienced, like a buzz in time to the earth’s rotation.  
>    
>    
> 

Telgrym grunted and began to pull away, but the angel tightened her grip and kept giving him more, ridding herself of an avalanche of memories. 

> Her true brothers and sisters, their song ringing in her ears, never ceasing. 
> 
> Charcoal in her fingers and dusting her palm as she drew the images of the end-times, until they took the blunt scraps of coal away and gave her crayons which she broke in two as she drew and drew--
> 
> Two boys standing in front of her in a church attic that was filled with dust. The dry sweet tickling of motes in the back of her throat. 

The magus’ hands were on hers now. 

> The leather of his coat pungent, slick and warm--

She opened her eyes. Telgrym’s were rolled back in his head and she released him, holding back the fragmented memory of a boy in the dark and how he had gazed up at her as if she could save him. 

Her daughter might want to see his face, someday. 

The little man staggered backwards, a hand to his temple. “Yes, well--” he stammered. “That will do, I think. Yes--” he stood a bit straighter. “That will do. Perhaps,” he glanced around the workroom. “You would like to rest while I work the conjuring?” He indicated the screen that stood opposite the doorway. 

I don’t sleep,” Anna said. 

“Then simply sit, my--” he faltered. “Please. I work best with a modicum of privacy.” 

Anna considered him dispassionately, then nodded once. She walked without speed to the screen, finding a small but comfortable looking bunk and a table with a tumble of notebooks and tomes scattered across its surface. 

She sat. She did not look at the books, nor did she attempt to spy on her host. She simple sat while inside her vessel, her grace wrapped itself around the spark, never touching it, a movement both soothing and restrictive.


	3. Chapter 3

Telgrym worked at his bench, the only sound his sometimes haranguing mutterings, which no longer brought either amusement or irritation to the angel. Gradually the mage’s exclamations began to take on a more formal tone, and Anna knew that he had begun the incantations that would reproduce her vessel. If she were inclined to hope, she would have willed him towards perfection. 

Hours passed, and the room filled with golden light and charged air that rose the hairs on Katya’s arms.

When at last the outer room had fallen completely silent, Anna stirred and began to listen for his command to come out and admire his handiwork. None came, but neither could she hear any sounds of movement that would let the angel know that he was still working. She stood and walked to the edge of the screen.

It stood as still as a wax statue in the center of a perfect circle, made of interconnected runes that must have been set into the floor, though she hadn’t noticed them before. Now they flickered with the magus’ golden magic. 

The vessel was unclothed and faced the door, its back to Anna. Not a single strand of the dark red hair that spilled down its back was out of proper place. Looking past the figure, she saw its creator slumped in a chair facing it, his eyes closed. She concentrated on him until she saw his chest rise and fall, twice. A small smile formed on Katya’s lips, and the angel moved into the room to inspect this work. 

Her first thought was that the vessel did not look like Anna, in spite of its hair, the lashes that fringed her closed eyes, and its fair skin. As she studied it, she noticed faint scars on its calf--falling on the concrete step--and its forearm--the hospital, she thought. Telgrym had incorporated the physical marks of Anna’s memory. The angel’s smile grew wide and sad. It would do, very well. 

She stepped over the rune line and opened Katya’s mouth to breathe her grace and the spark into her new physical form. 

“Wait!” Telgrym called from behind her, his voice thick with sleep. “Patience, angel. My lady must be present.” 

“Why?” Anna asked-- a touch sharply. 

“My dear, it is her spell-craft, and her commission. She would be angry with me if I did not invite her to witness the final step.” 

“I will take the responsibility.” Anna was still staring at her new vessel. 

Telgrym sighed. “You will also want my lady to make it ready.” 

“Isn’t it already?”

“Ready for your passenger.”

Anna turned to look at the magus then. 

“She takes a special interest in these matters, you know. Is not that why you came here?” 

“No. I came to spend a favor. But you are right, I suppose.” 

“Of course I am. Wait here, young--angel. I will ask her to attend us.” He stood and walked to the door, his gait weary and stiff. 

Anna turned back to her examination. So this is what the boy saw when he’d gazed up at her in the backseat of his car. It was an attractive face, she thought, but had it warranted the glint she saw in his eyes? Anna cocked her head to one side, remembering the chill air, their breath fogging up the windows, the feel of his fingers, his lips. It was as if these memories belonged to someone else. They floated above her, torn out of context. 

At some point, Telgrym returned and busied himself behind his screen. Anna heard him splash water into a basin while he grumbled to himself again. When he emerged, his hands and face were clean, and he had replaced his stained tunic with a linen shirt and frock coat, which he tugged at when he saw her watching. Neither of them spoke. 

The Fae queen arrived with her guard at her heels, but she waved at them to remain on the small landing as she entered the magus’ shop. The door closed behind her as she glided forward to inspect the vessel. Telgrym leapt to his feet from the stool by the workbench and bowed deeply, blushing and pulling at his coat again as his lady circled the runes. 

Finally she spoke. “Well done, my good servant. It will more than suffice.” 

“Thank you, my lady.” The mage twisted his hands together and bobbed his head. 

The queen looked at Anna. “And you? Are you pleased?” 

“I am.” 

The queen allowed the silence that followed to draw out between them, as she contemplated the two figures standing face to face, until Anna could stand it no longer. “Telgrym said I had to wait for you before I took control.” 

“Indeed.” The queen glanced at the little man, who startled, then hurried forward with murmured apologies. He knelt down and touched one of the runes, extinguishing the circle’s light. She smiled her thanks with an eyebrow arched. 

Without a word, she approached Anna and the vessel, and placed both hands on the lower part of the vessel’s stomach. A faint orange glow moved under her fingertips and spread across its skin. Anna thought its eyelids might have fluttered. After a moment, the queen spoke. “The potential will need to be guided to its space within this body, once you both are in occupation. After this, you, angel, must ensure its survival, maintaining nourishment and balance as it--”

“She--”

“Quite so. As I said, you must continue its care and safety, if you do wish for its eventual birth. Do you vouchsafe this action?”

“Yes,” the angel said quickly, feeling the spark push against her grace, somewhere in the vicinity of Katya’s ribs. 

“After its birth, which I will attend, the child’s comfort in my court I will accept as my responsibility, in exchange for your services. The child shall not want for a home in my realm. Do you give your oath to this arrangement?”

Anna hesitated, feeling the queen’s gaze on her face, but finally said softly, “Yes.”

“Lastly, little angel, in order to ensure the child’s safety, the mortal world should not interfere in my court’s affairs. Its father will not be told of its existence. Do you accept these terms?” 

“Yes,” Anna said again. 

“Thrice spoken, not to be broken.” The queen’s voice was somewhere between an incantation and a sing-song chant as she looked over her shoulder at Anna, one corner of her mouth curved up. Then, in a more severe tone, she said, “It is done.” 

She removed one hand from the vessel’s stomach and swept it up and back to clap over Katya’s forehead. As the connection was made, Katya’s mouth opened. Without thought or will, Anna’s grace flowed out of its temporary home and into its newly made vessel. The angel pulled the spark of mortal life along with her grace, and it tumbled, as though caught in a tide, into the new body. The runes on the floor flared again, enclosing the musician, queen and vessel in golden incandescent light. 

Anna felt the queen’s hand on her stomach, and the spark seemed to respond to it as well. The Fae’s magic pulled it down into the vessel’s womb, which had been prepared for it. Anna’s muscles contracted at the twinge of pain her vessel felt when the spark latched onto it, claiming its space inside. Inside her. The angel opened her eyes to meet the queen’s speculative gaze. Behind the queen’s skirts, she saw Katya’s body sprawled on the floor. Telgrym was just laying a palm on the musician’s forehead. 

“She survives, magus,” the queen said without turning. “You will see to her?”

Telgrym nodded, and said roughly, “I will, my lady.” 

“My thanks for your excellent service. I will see you rewarded.” Telgrym nodded again but made no further movement. 

The guards entered. One stood at attention by the door. The other at his lady’s signal approached, and offered her a richly embroidered red robe. The queen accepted it and turned to smile broadly at the angel, holding the robe out before her. Anna took it with a bow of her head and slipped it over her shoulders. 

“Welcome to my court, Anna Milton of the Host. Shall we find you quarters?” The queen held out her arm. 

Anna accepted the invitation, and linked her own arm into the crook of her new liege’s elbow. “Thank you, your highness.” 

The queen laughed at that, a gentle trilling sound, as she guided the angel around Telgrym and Katya, and over the runes, now darkened once more. 

The queen bent her head to Anna’s ear and said, “There is no need of such titles. ‘My Lady’ will serve perfectly well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an odd sort of "what if" that I've been mulling over for years now, and I finally decided just to write the thing, even if I'm the only person in the world who actually wants to know how such a thing as Anna carrying Dean's child might come about. 
> 
> There's a bit more to my idea, but this part of it, the deal and the vessel-making, sort of took on a life of its own, and shoved my original ending out of the way! I'm considering adding a sequel or a linked story, so please let me know if you like this well enough to want to know what happens next! And as always, thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an odd sort of "what if" that I've been mulling over for years now, and I finally decided just to write the thing, even if I'm the only person in the world who actually wants to know how such a thing as Anna carrying Dean's child might come about. 
> 
> There's a bit more to my idea, but this part of it, the deal and the vessel-making, sort of took on a life of its own, and shoved my original ending out of the way! I'm considering adding a sequel or a linked story, so please let me know if you like this well enough to want to know what happens next! And as always, thanks for reading.


End file.
